One Night Fever
by VSBreeWest
Summary: After the war is won, Harry allows himself his one indulgence - to dance - and is surprised to run into a former professor on his night out.


**AN:** Just a little one shot for my Severus/Harry fans and then back to my current story 'To Protect'

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters. All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling. I am not making any profit from this fan fiction (just letting my freak flag fly).**

**Warning:** Mature sexual content between two male characters. If that ain't your thang, just kindly hit the "back" button.

**One Night Fever**

"Bloody hell," Ron spewed as soon as they stood in front of the night club titled "Fever." The letters above the entrance door were steaming as if caught on fire in a neon hot pink that glittered and glistened.

The music playing from inside caused a soft throbbing and beckoning in Harry's core. After his graduation, it had been his one desire to finally allow himself this one pleasure – dancing. He could hardly get his dance on when a dark wizard hellbent on his demise was after him. Of course, now with Voldemort gone and the entire wizarding world finally where it should be, Harry was in a better position to let his hips wave freely about the club floor.

He had barely manage to convince Ron to accompany him; however, he had not (for very good reason) disclosed to what type of club he had wanted to venture.

"There is a mistake mate," Ron started speaking quickly and back stepping several feet. "This is a club for poofs." He was now pointing a finger at said club accusingly, and his face was visibly paled which was exceedingly hard to come about since Ron was as pale as one could be without being an albino.

"No mistake," Harry said nonchalantly as he made his way to the door. Ron tugged violently at his arm before he could get far though.

"No bloody way," Ron's voice pitched.

Harry ignored his friend's pleas as he finally reached the club bouncer. The overly large man was intimidating to most, be assured; however, Harry had both battled and defeated the most terrifying dark wizard to ever come into existence, so he was hardly put off.

"I'd like to come in," he said promptly. Ron let out a shrill cry – somewhere between a whimper and a scream. Harry ignored his desperate friend as he continued to stare at the bouncer.

The man seemed to contemplate Harry's appearance. He had dressed in a form fitting velvet red t-shirt and black pants that hugged his every curve (or lack there of). He had actually attempted to style his hair, though others would barely notice the difference from his usual style. His most distinguishing feature, his scar, was however visibly on display with his new styling. He had charmed his eyes in order to go without glasses. He could not imagine the mere annoyance they would become while he allowed the music to move his body.

When the man finally finished his assessment, he nodded and unhooked the belt stalling Harry's progress.

"Mione is going to kill me..." Ron cried out from behind him.

Smiling at Ron's utterly pathetic attempt as using his girlfriend, Harry revealed in a slightly hushed voice, "She gave me permission beforehand."

It was Harry's turn to grasp a hold of his unwilling friend and drag him inside. Ron was fighting as they entered into the atmosphere of "Fever." Most of the wizards moved in a tight body in the middle of the club while others were sparse in a ring around it. The bar was heavy with traffic as spells and drinks were tossed about in a show of entertainment. It was, however, all wizards; Harry found the sigh at his lips. It was the first time he was officially, in a way, coming out about his sexuality as he led his very verbally charged friend through the sea of bodies.

"Harry," Ron pleaded again as he was tugged through and thoroughly felt up by unidentifiable hands. He was squealing by the time they reached the floor. "Let's go, mate. Its too crowded."

"Its just right," Harry said as he fell into the rhythm of the music, swaying his body to the jolt and beat of it. Ron was frozen in front of him while Harry lost all conscience thought of his best mate and allowed this one selfish desire to take over. It felt like he was alive; every nerve in his body was jolting to the overpoweringly thunderous beat the music produced. His skin felt electric as he ran his hands along his arms and stomach, feeling it as if it was not his own. It was his freedom.

As the songs moved and changed tempo, Harry finally rested his eyes on his very stiff and very frightened best mate. He sighed. It was time to give the dream up, at least for tonight. He had been too afraid to come alone, and so he had dragged Ron here with under a misconception of where they would actually be going.

However, before he spoke out about leaving, Harry's eyes caught sight of a familiar form now making their way over to them. The tall wizard was unmistakable no matter what clothing he may choose to fashion himself with. It was Harry's turn to be frozen as Severus Snape closed the gap between them. Ron was muttering and stammering at his side.

"Oh bloody hell," Ron whispered though it was more half-yelling since whispering would be lost in the loud tempo pounding around them. "It couldn't possibly be..."

"Professor Snape," Harry finished as the man finally stood before them. Snape was wearing a tight fitting black shirt under a black-leather jacket adorned with all sorts of silver snake design buckles. The long black trousers were partially fitted and finished with black dress shoes. Harry smiled at this final detail. The man was impeccably dressed for a club such as this. This brought about a new thought: what was Severus Snape doing in a gay club?

"Mister Weasley and Mister Potter, I had not thought you two were in such a relationship. Miss Granger must be absolutely beside herself with grief to have her knight stolen away from her by the savior of the wizarding world." Severus's face was its usual stoicism if not for the small upturn of the professor's lip.

"N-no! It's not l-like that p-professor..." Ron stammered. Harry sighed and merely gave the man an impassive stare.

"What is Hogwart's most feared Potion's professor doing in a gay club?" he posed.

"Socializing, not that it is any of you business, Potter." Severus remained his cool aloofness despite his current circumstances. Harry could see several wizards eyeballing the man at a distance; surely they would be licking their lips any minute at the possibility of one tall, dark, and handsome man as their partner. It was his former professor himself that brought about Harry's discovering of his sexuality. However, it was clear that there would never be a return of that affection so Harry had long since forgotten his infatuation – until now that is.

"Let's go Harry," Ron said into his ear. Harry briefly caught a spark in the professor's eyes before they returned to their usual impassiveness. He nodded his head in agreement before addressing Snape.

"Well," he said evenly despite the hammering of his awoken heart. "We will let you return to your socializing." He took a hold of Ron's arm once more and started towards the entrance. So much for one pleasure. He had barely tasted his euphoria. Now with the knowledge that Severus Snape frequented this club, Harry would have to find another gay club to dance in.

Severus immediately side-stepped to block their way. "A moment of your time, Potter." Ron was shaking his head almost violently, but Harry conceded with small sigh and nod of his head.

"Go on ahead," Harry said to Ron who was wide-eyed and staring at him. "I'll only be a moment."

"B-but," Ron started nervously.

"You may leave, Mister Weasley. I will see to it that Mister Potter makes it safely home once our business has finished," Snape cut in sharply.

Harry's heart only doubled in speed from the admission. Snape immediately took Harry by his upper arm and led him deeper into the dance floor. Ron was left, wide-eyed and stammering, but Harry was hardly able to focus on his friend when those perfectly long, potion-stained fingers wrapped themselves over his exposed arm. His skin reeled in the touch, warming where the man held him.

When they made it well into the middle, Snape stopped and pulled Harry so close that he could feel every curve on the man's body and the definition of muscle the man harbored beneath thin clothes. Oh and Merlin was the wizard defined. You would think that Severus Snape was the same thin-as-a-rail, skin and bone professor he had once been at Hogwarts when Harry had schooled there a year prior, but he was plenty built as Harry's hands greedily felt the contours of his former professor.

"What was your business," Harry half-yelled, having to go to the tips of his toes to bring him anywhere near the man's ear. It seemed a little too intimate, but he had little choice. "We won't be able to discuss anything out here."

"Precisely, Potter." Snape concurred as his arms slid around Harry's waist and firmly held him close. "I do not think Weasley was quite the adequate decision in dance partner; you need a rather experienced partner to match your particular talents." The words were emphasized by hands moving him along with the steady tremble of music. It was a mystery how Snape could monologue in the middle of a crowded dance floor unphased. Harry's body began to move on its own despite his hesitations. As if possessed, he moved against his former professor unhindered by thoughts of what Snape might be doing there – doing with Harry. Instead, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the hard body against his own, clearly matching the movements without difficulty.

Several songs meshed as they danced and soon, Harry was not entirely sure how long they had been dancing. He was breathless and had developed a thin shean of sweat over his honeyed skin. His back was against Snape, who had his hands clasping greedily at his hips as they swayed to and fro. Their bodies, surprisingly, were in a perfect unison.

"Should we steal away to a more private setting, Mister Potter?" Lips pressed ever so slightly to the shell of his ear as the sexiest words Harry could had possibly imagined streamed in. He was nodding his head before he realized and immediately led off the floor to the front entrance.

"Wait, where?" Harry finally asked as they left the club behind them towards the Apparate point.

"My personal abode, Mister Potter." Snape was smirking as they finally reached the spot, tucking Harry into him as he disapparated them away.

o-o-o

As soon as they appeared within the fire lit bed chambers, Snape's lips were devouring Harry's. He was walked backwards, his back hitting what he could only imagine to be some sort of ingredients' cabinet, and violently kissed unlike anything his pubescent experiment kisses with Oliver Wood could conceive to come close to. Severus Snape was brilliant; his tongue seemed to elicit every bit of voice Harry could muster through a dizzy confusion. He was rubbed, nearly raw, against the cabinet before he was pulled and moved over to the large, silk-covered bed.

Pushing his former professor with what little strength he could gather after his body had nearly gone to jelly, he rasped, "Wa-wait one second..."

"Your insolent nattering will only upset the mood Potter," Snape said as he closed the small amount of distance and sucked at the exposed flesh of Harry's neck. Bloody hell did it feel amazing. Harry shook his head as he worked through coherently speaking out.

Again he pushed, "Wait! Professor..."

"Severus," the man breathed against his flesh, deriving a sharp intake from Harry. "I am no longer your professor."

"Se-Severus then," Harry repeated breathlessly. "We should discuss what is exactly going on here.."

"I thought it clear," Snape said whilst pulling away. He was smirking, clearly mocking Harry.

Steeling himself against the insult, Harry tipped his chin in defiance. "I am aware of _what_ is happening...I am just not sure as to why."

"You are no maiden, Potter. Two adult _gay _men come together at a club such as 'Fever' for one purpose...sexual intercourse." Harry had to keep his smile from reaching his lips. Snape was the only man he knew who used the words sexual intercourse, but somehow it was unbearably sexy. Instead of giving into his urges, he continued to press the man.

"I did not go there for that reason," Harry began indignantly. "I went to dance. You were the one that said we had business and then persisted on bringing us here."

Snape's eyes danced dangerously over Harry's body. "When I requested our leaving, I thought it clear my intentions Potter. Would you have me believe that you came here with other intentions in mind?"

"Yes," Harry replied simply.

"Pray tell, what intentions would those be?"

Harry swallowed against the angry gaze. "To speak to you about your being in a night club like 'Fever.'"

"You mean to say...pry into my being at that night club. You are ever the insufferable Gryffindor." Snape looked exasperated as he took a drink out of a cabinent beside the blazing fire hearth. "I knew it against my better judgment to pursue you..." the wizard mumbled to himself.

"Why did you then?" Harry could feel his stomach churning. He should have left it alone, but now he was well into it.

"Perhaps a moment's lapse in judgment, Mister Potter." Snape took a swing of the amber liquid he had poured before setting the glass aside. "Seeing as we are no longer of the same mindset, I will allow you to use the Floo and disappear yet again from my life. I am quite exhausted from the evening."

"I see," Harry replied. He pushed down the disappointment bellying before making his way to the fire, where Snape stood silently watching him. "Where do you keep your floo powder?"

There was an awkward silence before Snape was moving forward and reaching beyond Harry, their bodies a hairsbreadth away. He dropped the small bag of floo into Harry's hand before moving away.

Hesitating, Harry pulled out a handful of floo. Before he could throw it into the fire, however, he was being jerked by his arm and drawn into Snape's large torso. The wind was knocked from him along with the bag of floo. Before he could question the man in his anger, lips were pressed firmly against his own. Harry gasped in surprise only for his mouth to be pummeled with a hot tongue. He lost his reason to fight back and returned the kiss with every bit of his strength.

They were moving, furniture skirting as they fell into it, bodies jerking as Harry was pulled this way and that. Harry helped the man out of his jacket, having already discarded his own shirt, and then they were moving again.

"Bugger," Harry called out as he hit the corner of a large oak desk. He was pulled forward instantly and his mouth covered once more by his former professor. Pain forgotten, they half stumbled to the bed and gracelessly fell onto it. Harry scooted along the surface as Snape followed.

Snape pulled out his wand and suddenly, Harry's hot flesh was engulfed with the biting cold of the room. He shivered but was immediately pushed to lay out fully over the surface of the matteress and covered with a much larger, warmer body.

"Your company is actually quite pleasant when you are silent, Potter."

"And yours less pleasant when you do," Harry retorted with a smirk.

"Touche," Snape said as he kissed and nipped his way along the line of Harry's neck to the curve of his shoulder. Oh gods did it feel incredible. It was as if every nerve in his body was alert and firing. Each nip of teeth and swipe of the man's tongue was slowly transforming him into a moaning, writhing animal. Harry cried out with a particularly sharp bite to his nipple. Looking down, he saw Sanpe smirk before licking the injury, causing Harry's cheeks to heat with embarrassment. It was absolutely illegal that look. Currently, Harry was having a hard time controling his breathing along with other parts of him that had gone awol.

"You are quite sensitive here," Snape said conversationally. "I am curious to discover just where else you may be just as, if not more so, Potter."

"Um," Harry whispered inarticulately. "Not really sure, sir."

Snape rose a brow as his lips stalled. Black depths met his emerald ones as they gazed at each other.

"I do not comprehend what you mean to say," Snape questioned in disbelief. "Would you have me believe this is your first experience, Potter."

The blush that followed seemed to be answer enough as Snape pulled away, making a frustrated noise as he did so. "You have to be bloody well kidding me..." the man groaned to himself.

Harry captured the man's wrist before he could fully pull away. "So that matters to you then? You didn't seem to be put off before this."

"Aside from my brief moment of indulgence, Potter, I am in no means prepared to be the first for any virgin, especially the wizarding world's savior."

"Afraid I might get clingy?" Harry heard himself argue. He was not sure as to the reason for his arguing. Just a moment ago, he was prepared to leave. Why fight for it now? He shook away his thoughts as he pointed a glare at the dark-haired wizard. "I would never have thought Severus Snape would be afraid of anything."

"Fear has nothing to do with it, Potter." Snape was glaring but it lost a bit of its strength with the man being buck-naked while doing it. Harry had to fight back the urge to laugh.

"Then what Snape? If not fear, why are you unable to do it?"

"I am unable to _do it_ as you so inarticulately put it Potter because of the immensity of said decision," Snape glowered. "You should find someone with a relationship in mind for such an event. Now dress yourself and get out."

Harry sat up and glared at the man now retreating. As if not fully in the buff, Severus Snape strode without modesty and grabbed another drink. Harry steeled himself against the clear rejection. Throwing his modesty aside, he pushed himself from his bed and walked the short distance to the other wizard. Before Snape could push him away, he encircled the tall wizard's neck and pressed his lips heatedly against the thin, slightly chapped ones of his former professor.

"Consider this my issuing you a challenge," Harry whispered against those lips. "I would prefer it if you were my first..."

Snape's body was stiff against him and those lips unmoving beneath his own. Harry worried a minute that he would be once more pushed away; however, his fears were for not as a low growl rumbled against him and hands were lifting him, carrying him back to the bed with great ease. He was gasping and moaning against the man's mouth as his body once more reacted with arousal.

No more words were exchanged as greedy hands felt, rubbed, grasped at whatever they could. Harry was unable to keep quiet as every lick to his flesh, every bite and nip, sent him crying out with need. Never had he wanted..._needed_ anything so desperately. It was a frenzy of touching and kissing from there as his legs were spread and fingers covered heavily with lubrication were thrusting into him. Harry would have been more shy if not for the overwhelming need he felt curling in his belly. He needed Snape. He needed him now.

"Bloody hell," he rasped as sparks of pleasure rippled through him. Snape curled his fingers once more, sliding over the area that had Harry seeing spots, and Harry was robbed of his breath as the current of electric pleasure burned him from the inside out.

"Are you quite sure this is your first time, Potter?" Severus asked against the skin of his hip. Harry rolled his hips in frustration when those fingers paused. Forget the burn or the incredible stretching sensation, it felt bloody brilliant. Snape was bloody brilliant, he corrected. Groaning, Harry urged the man again as he pushed against the stalled digits.

"Just get on with it," Harry growled.

"Patience," Snape was smirking as he twisted his fingers and added another. Harry felt the pain come and go. "You are lucky I used a pain potion paired with lubricant, Mister Potter. Not many would be so wise..."

"Enough talking...more doing..." Harry moaned as the fingers had once more stalled.

Harry was answered as the wizard's fingers once more moved within him, and he was once again reduced to a moaning, groaning, wanton beast. When Snape pulled them out, Harry felt oddly empty and was about to protest before he realized just what the man was meaning to replace the talented digits with. He watched greedily as potion-stained fingers wrapped and curled over the girth of Snape's own erection. He generously lubricated the length before positioning himself to Harry's well-stretched entrance. The man looked positively erotic with his brow now trailing sweat, and his muscles tense as he held himself within Harry's opened legs. The triceps and biceps in the man's arms rippled against the strain, and Harry found himself mesmerized by all that was Severus Snape.

Harry licked his lips in anticipation before he was breeched and sent arching at almost a ninty degree angle. It was a very different feeling from the man's fingers. Severus had grasped his thighs, keeping them apart and continued pushing into the intense heat. Harry cried out with the slow progression, his hands grasping helplessly at the sheets beneath him.

"Sev," he cried out as the man fully sheathed himself. "Oh gods..." he moaned as the fullness nearly put him over the edge of his orgasm. There was a mixture of pleasure and pain, though it would seem the potion was doing its work as the pain ebbed away and pleasure took its place.

He could have never truly put into words what the experience even closely resembled. The only word he could use to describe it was perfection. Each pull of flesh, every gasp of breath, each grunt and groan Snape gave way to as he thrust without pause into the willing body beneath him, it was as if Harry had dreamt it all. Harry was overcome by wave after wave of pleasure. It was utter perfection the way their bodies moved in unison, danced together in passion perfectly in sync the same way they had on the dance floor.

The end came too soon as Harry came between them, crying out and clinging desperately at his former professor. Snape was soon to follow and somehow managed to roll himself away before collapsing. In those moments following, Harry gasped hungrily at the air. Snape was silent, though still breathing roughly; and then came the awkwardness, the utter reality of what had just transpired. As if led by his instincts, Harry quickly dressed himself and without much else to say, he apparated home.

o-o-o

"Harry!" Hermione cried out as soon as he appeared. She rose from the couch, visibly relieved to see him. "Where have you been?"

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked as he looked about and all but ignored her question. He was doing his best to calm his emotions, but a very deep part of him was crying for him to return to Snape...plead the man to reconsider his stance on their being together. However, it had been made very clear that Snape wanted nothing more to do with him when he all but rejected the idea of being Harry's first to begin with.

"Locked in his room," she replied with a smile. "Something about being groped within an inch of his life, Snape, and how he would never forgive me..." she sat down and Harry followed her, taking a seat beside her on the sofa.

"Sorry 'bout that..."

"Oh, do not apologize," she replied quickly. "He will forgive me soon enough. How was your night? Did you meet anyone...and what is this I hear about Snape?"

"Uh well," Harry began with a scratch to his neck. "I sort of...well, you know, went home with him."

"You what?!"

"Yeah well, it was just a one night fever..." he grinned sadly. "I won't hear from him after this I'm sure."

"What possessed you to go home with Professor Snape? Even still, I cannot fathom what he would be doing at a night club for...well you know."

"Dunno," Harry replied softly. "Guess the same thing I was."

"Oh Harry," she started but he quickly cut her off with a raising of his hand.

"I'm fine, 'Mione."

o-o-o

The next two weeks went by quickly enough. Harry, however, had spent most of his time thinking of Snape but continued to fight the urge to track down the Potion's master.

When he came home, one evening, Hermione was immediately at the door to their shared flat.

"Harry," she whispered. He looked passed her to see a dark figure on the couch and a stammering Ron in the kitchen.

"What's going on, 'Mione?"

"Professor Snape is here," she replied quickly as she pulled him inside.

"What?!"

Snape stood from the couch as they walked into the sitting room. Harry was dumbfounded and unable to move much less give way to any sort of verbal acknowledgement.

"Mister Potter," the man said evenly.

"What are you doing here?" he was finally able to ask. Hermione was smiling in her usual polite manner. Ron was mumbling to himself about having Snape in his sitting room. Hermione went to stand beside Ron and usher him into their room to give Harry and Snape a bit of privacy.

"I would like to request your company for dinner this evening," Snape's eyes captured his, and Harry was left breathless.

"Dinner..."

"Indeed."

"This evening."

"Correct," Snape smirked in amusement.

"Why?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"To begin our courtship, Mister Potter," Snape replied as if Harry should have already deduced that much.

"Courtship...wait, what? And who in their bloody mind calls it that anymore?!"

"Perhaps I should refer to it as dating then," Snape was once more smirking.

"I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me."

Snape walked forward until there was barely an inch between then, "It would appear otherwise."

"So a date..."

Snape let out a frustrated breath, "Yes, Mister Potter. A date with myself this evening. Care to give me an answer to my request?"

Harry was silent, but then he was smiling as wide as he could manage. "Sure...since you asked nicely." He surged forward and pressed his lips to Snape's giving him a chaste, welcome kiss.

o-o-o


End file.
